


Gekokujō

by cross



Category: Persona 2
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, Inspired by Art, Rule 63, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cross/pseuds/cross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tatsunoshin Suou and his lover, Junnosuke Kuroda, share a tender moment after marriage. Featuring female!Junnosuke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gekokujō

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by [this](http://i.imgur.com/vyDh9.jpg) piece of art by [Misa-san](http://mpnmisa.versus.jp), and of course, the hilariously campy and fanservicey concept of the Sengoku Era Ancestral Personae from Persona 2: Eternal Punishment. No historical accuracy guaranteed.

Tatsunoshin's hands were warm, and he insisted on resting one at the scruff of Junnosuke's neck, propping her up like a doll in his lap. She sighed and shuddered as he peeled away the lace choker—a wedding gift, from her mother, who assured her she would make her master a very happy man if she donned it on the futon—and let it fall. She felt the lace slide down her neck and breasts, hinging on the fabric of her kimono still concealing her chest. The spoon and cup in her hands wobbled when she tried to shrug her shoulders back into her outfit.

"You can do it without spilling it, Junnosuke." Tatsunoshin parted his lips for her and bore his tongue for the sweet cream. There was no reprimand or unkindness in his words even as the cream dripped onto his hakama, only urgency.

"Sorry, Master," Junnosuke muttered, and with her apology his other hand found its way beneath the kimono to her sex, bare save for the prickles that had returned since the servants groomed her. She pressed the spoon to his lips, overturning its curvature onto the flat of his tongue and letting the cream spill down his throat, and she whined as his mouth closed around it and his war-scarred hand traced her slick slit.

"'Master' again?" Tatsunoshin pet her back where the kimono left her exposed, in sensual motions over the knots in her spine. She trembled against his fingers and pulled the spoon out of his mouth to dig it back into the bowl of cream. As she trembled her clit met his palm and she arched her back, unable to suppress squeezing his hand between her thighs. "I told you you're free to call me what you like."

"What do you want to be called?" she said, squirming in her own stickiness and glancing away when Tatsunoshin's classic muted smile spread across his lips at her arousal.

Tatsunoshin shook his head, as if to tell her she was missing the point; that he didn't care what she called him as long as it was what _she_ wanted, and unlike other samurai he would treat his wife as an equal even if she had been his warrior before. Anything, as long as it wasn't "Master".

"...Tatsunoshin-sama," she tried. "My husband."

Tatsunoshin lifted the cream and spoon out of her hands and set them aside on the tatami. He sat up straighter, lodging a finger deep inside of her and shedding the rest of her kimono with his other hand, exposing her breasts and stomach, scarred from one too many nicks with the kunai and sticky bindings to fit in her gear, but no less beautiful or strong with grace befitting of a shinobi. She flushed as usual when exposed, envious of the other lords' wives and their waist-length locks that complimented their shapes while she had a mere boyish bob that left little to the imagination other than her right eye that remained tactfully hidden beneath dark bangs. Her lord kissed her, hushing her whimpers as he parted her legs wider and fucked her with his hand. The erection beneath the fabric of his pants pressed at her wetness, and he rocked his hips against hers so she would know that he was getting off too, and that unlike others the sounds of her pleasure were pleasing to him.

"That's better." Tatsunoshin always spoke in hushed tones (Junnosuke used to joke that he saved all of his volume for battle). He tilted her back onto the futon beneath them, slipping another finger inside of her and not removing them even for a moment as she pulsed around them. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath that heaved harder with each curl of his fingers, and he kissed the droplets of cream off of her chest, in her cleavage and on her small rosy nipples that went stiffer in the wet heat of his mouth.

When the hakama came off, the robes did not. They kept her bare form warm from the crisp winter air permeating the house when he held her between his own body and the futon. Tatsunoshin pushed inside of her with ease, and he was glad for the foresight to have ordered the rest of the servants out of the house for the day, as his wife took great pleasure in noise and moans whenever he thrust into her a little harder. Her scent was intoxicating, and familiar in the most comforting ways, in ways his own teacher claimed only the luckiest men in Japan would find in their lifetimes. ("Someone just like you," he'd said, "your other half. And that is a reward almost as great as conquering for your lord.")

Junnosuke came while he was inside of her, squeezing his cock between her thighs and in her climax. (A mythical thing the house maids claimed to have never had.) For her part, she had been taught to live for her lord, to protect him at all costs, even with her life, _especially_ with her life, only to give her life to him completely, because protecting him was protecting herself too—a match made by the stars, her father claimed, as he traced the constellations in the sky in the months of their births. Their eyes met for a brief moment until hers fell shut in pleasure, and he finished too, filling his lover without a thought.

He collapsed next to her and they curled up under the blanket still entwined, with the sweet cream long forgotten and melting at their sides. There was a whisper of "I only have eyes for you" as they drifted off to sleep with his hands over her chest, holding her breasts and thumping with the pitter-patter of her heart beneath his fingers.


End file.
